[L's interest in such matters far exceeds his typical willingness to express said interest, or actually seek out the types of answers that might reveal a poignant desire for others to face difficult questions alongside him. It's no matter; he's accustomed to it, keeping what matters to him tightly bound up so that no one can see it or notice it or help him with it in any human, feeling capacity. Myr isn't human; Myr might also be trusted. It's a strange gray area tonight, where L is alone and perhaps too far down in the bottle to judge such matters with the same caution and hesitation he ordinarily might. The effect, unsurprisingly, makes him seem more fragile, more like one poised on the brink of the abyss with no regrets or impulse to dance back and preserve himself.
It's good that it was Myr tonight, with him, in the end. There are so many worse ways this conversation could have gone with a stranger, an enemy, or even a friend, but some combination of those things present in his companion make his eyes stretch momentarily as his lungs wince and shudder.]
I wasn't wanted, and I had no purpose... until I was, and I did.
[That's the simplest possible answer to that question. There's so much more to it, of course, an absurd and often disturbing amount. L lifts his glass, tips back a reckless amount as he listens... then he lowers his glass, sets it down, as something very unexpected happens. He watches Myr crumble, overcome, and for a few moments all he can do is stare, in paralysis and indecision.
Then, with great trepidation, spindly fingers reach out toward the fur at the back of Myr's neck, and he pets it with the same careful reverence as a child entrusted with his first soft and mysterious rabbit.]
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It's good that it was Myr tonight, with him, in the end. There are so many worse ways this conversation could have gone with a stranger, an enemy, or even a friend, but some combination of those things present in his companion make his eyes stretch momentarily as his lungs wince and shudder.]
I wasn't wanted, and I had no purpose... until I was, and I did.
[That's the simplest possible answer to that question. There's so much more to it, of course, an absurd and often disturbing amount. L lifts his glass, tips back a reckless amount as he listens... then he lowers his glass, sets it down, as something very unexpected happens. He watches Myr crumble, overcome, and for a few moments all he can do is stare, in paralysis and indecision.
Then, with great trepidation, spindly fingers reach out toward the fur at the back of Myr's neck, and he pets it with the same careful reverence as a child entrusted with his first soft and mysterious rabbit.]